Oh, So Many Running Skirts

It is possible that you don’t know this about me, because you don't interact with me every day (poor, unfortunate souls!), but I’ve been on top of the world lately. Everything is coming up JackieOh in this Year of Yes. All of my Life Plans are almost ready to fall into place perfectly, and I'm making the most of every last minute I have here in New York City.

I was just telling a friend the other night that I feel like I have something to look forward to nearly every weekend until the end of July when I have to leave, and this past one was no exception.

On Saturday morning I got up early to watch QZ and my other cycling friends compete in the bike race in Central Park. I wanted to be out there, and I'll get there eventually (maybe next weekend!) but, well, I'm terrified of bike racing. It’s not like running at all, where the strongest, fastest guy wins. There are team strategies and lead-outs and field sprints and get this – if you flat out or get dropped from the pack, you just quit the race! That Never Give Up attitude of mine isn't really applicable here. My cycling friends reassure me that I’m strong and will be a good racer, but I’m not quite so convinced. There are crashes all the time in bike racing! Don't they realize how klutzy I am?

After the race QZ and I got breakfast and then cleaned our bikes. Well okay, it was more like he cleaned while I watched and tried not to get sprayed by the hose, but my bike looks so shiny and new! At least I'll look good out there next weekend when I'm shaking in my spandex.

Saturday was a good day, but Sunday was downright wonderful. I ran my first half-marathon! My friend and teammate LZ and I competed together in the More Magazine half-marathon, an all-women's race that consists of two clock-wise loops of Central Park starting on the East Drive and finishing at Tavern on the Green. It was fun! And painful! We stayed together the whole time, and kept a steady training pace to finish well under the two-hour mark.

Now, I'm as much a feminist as the next youngish, liberalish, overeducated, two-x-chromosome-having New Yorker, but something about these women-only races makes me want to sprint away in the opposite direction. On Friday I went to the expo to pick up our race numbers and tshirts, and couldn’t get out of there fast enough. There were stations for makeovers and hairdryers; ladies were lined up to get manicures and purchase pink running shirts emblazoned with the phrase “I Run Like A Girl.” Hey, let’s embrace all the negative stereotypes about female athletics and repackage them under the guise of empowerment! Sure, I love manicures (and the color pink, for that matter), but let’s leave them out of a marathon and half-marathon expo, okay ladies?

On Sunday LZ and I lined up for the start in our fluorescent yellow racing jerseys and black tights amidst a sea of pretty coordinating tops and running skirts. Oh, so many running skirts. I cringed when the race director announced “You’re all beautiful!” before sounding the gun…but once we got going, I had to admit that the overall atmosphere was so warm and supportive that it made running 13.1 miles (almost) enjoyable. Then somewhere around mile twelve LZ and I fell entirely under the spell of women’s racing and exchanged those mushy “I’m so happy to have a friend like you!” sentiments. Funny how distance running can draw out emotions, even from chicks like us.

After the race, my coach (really outdoing himself this time in the jackass category) sent out an email with pictures of team members running in the race accompanied by this note:

“Fun runners waving to the camera were eliminated. Focus on your effort and the pain to achieve your ultimate glory.”

“Eliminated” from the pictures? Me and LZ.